I Can See Your Face
by CanYouHearThem
Summary: Just a short little fic about what I would like to see happen immediately after the Season 9 Finale of Supernatural! Mainly dealing with the reactions of Sam (who is still drunk) and Castiel.


"Cas, I don't know how much longer I can stay in here. If you're up there, if you're even alive I need you, D…Dean needs you."

Sam could taste the saltiness of his own tears as they ran down into his speaking mouth. His eyes were so heavy that he couldn't keep them open anymore, and his feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each as he paced throughout the room.

He didn't know how long he had been praying, pleading towards heaven for someone to come down to help him. He shouted for Gadreel, for Hannah, hell even for Metatron, but no one more than Castiel. Sam looked back towards the locked doors of the Bunker's dungeon. Trying to remember how long ago it was that he locked himself inside.

A voice echoed throughout the walls of the bunker, calling his name, begging for him to come out. The voice was calm, familiar, brotherly, and had this been any other day, Sam would have been out there in a second. All he could do now though was retrace the Devil's trap on the doorway, hands quivering as he did so.

When he went over the last sigil for the second, third or twentieth time, he banged his head against the wall, then again, and again. He could feel blood trickle down his forehead as he pressed his face against the concrete wall. The voices continued to echo throughout the bunker, until he heard a flutter, and then a voice from directly behind him.

"I'm here Sam."

"Cas, what the hell took you so long?" Sam demanded, staring daggers into Cas with his severely reddened eyes.

"We have Metatron, I was busy co-ordinating the Angels when…wait." Castiel paused, cocking his head as he stared at the wall behind Sam. "Why did you draw a Devil's Trap on the door Sam?"

"It's my fault. I couldn't…I…he was lying on the bed Castiel, the smell was everywhere. Didn't want to just leave him but I had to do something. You weren't coming so I had to summon him."

Castiel's eyes narrowed as his shoulders pressed forward, one hand on his angel blade.

"Who did you summon?"

Sam fell back against the wall.

"Crowley."

Castiel threw Sam out of the way and sent him (relatively) gently flying towards the wall. The dungeon shook as he slammed his hand against the doorway.

"Where is he? What did he do?" Castiel screamed, his voice growling out of pure rage.

"Cas I'm sorry." Sam croaked.

The door finally inched open and Castiel stepped into the filing room, concrete dust falling from his hands. With his blade drawn he started to scan the room, and it didn't take long for him to find a target, although it wasn't who he thought it would be, not in the least.

"Hey Cas, so that's what you really look like? Not gonna lie my fine feathered friend…I prefer the trenchcoat."

Cas tried to look into Dean's eyes, but as hard as he tried he couldn't bring himself to. Something had changed, something that the Angel had seen happen far too many times.

"Dean…I can see your face."  
Castiel stood there blankly, unsure of whether or not he should be feeling fear, remorse or sadness. Looking into Dean's eyes he could see the earthly green and loving gaze that he was used to. At the same time however, he saw the face of a hellspawn, the demonic flames and horns and other ungodly protrusions jutting out from his deformed body.

Such is the curse of the angel, seeing both the true face of a demon and the vessel at the same time. Unable to focus on one, constantly being forced to see both monster and man.

"What's the matter there Cas? You look like you've seen a ghost, which I guess would be just as likely…but wrong monster there amigo."

"Dean how did this happen, did Crowley…"

"Crowley didn't do jack believe it or not. Well other than put the blade back into my hand, but that would have happened eventually anyways. But c'mon, tell me: how do I look?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well is it more Pan's Labyrinth or Godzilla?"

"It's…you're more like an amalgamation between Buffy demons and Ghost Rider."

"Wait so I have flames?" Dean asked, looking down at his arms as he tried to envision it. "Awesome. I'll never get used to this pop culture Cas though, jus' saying."

Castiel slowly walked towards Dean, fighting against all of his programming as an angel to ignore the look of the demon. With every step closer however, he realized just how much he was failing.

"Dean, what have you done?" Castiel's mind was racing, running through everything he knew about demonic culture, trying to figure out what had happened. "Your soul could not have been demonized in hell already, that sort of thing takes centuries. If Crowley didn't do anything than this doesn't make sense. Unless…"

"Here it comes."

"Your soul was demonized already, from the Mark."

"Close enough, apparently there's some nonsense about the Mark not wanting to let me go. It's a bitch that way, but get this Cas: I don't need to kill anymore."

Sam slowly started rising to his feet behind Castiel, who had been knocked back a couple of steps by this surprising revelation. Suddenly he wasn't focused so much on the look of the man in front of him, but the new possibilities that he just put forward.

"I suppose it is possible that whatever power the Mark has could be lessened by a more powerful being…" Cas surmised.

"See? Everything is hunky dory then, I mean except for the black-eyes bit."

"I said lessened Dean, no matter what you are, the Mark still does have a hold on you."

"Look Cas, I know what I feel."

"No Dean you know what you think you feel, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Cas look, everything is…"

Before he could finish his sentence he had been charged by a stampeding angel, without so much as a moment to react Castiel now had him pinned. Dean's body was bent backwards over a desk and he was now face to face with an enraged Cas.

"Cas no!" screamed Sam from inside the dungeon, as he started to race forward to stop them. With a flick of his wrist however, Cas sent the dungeon doors swinging back towards him, locking Sam inside once more.

"You're on the path of Cain, and we both know where that ends Dean. You might not think that you want to kill but it is a part of you now, and I can't take that risk. I can't watch you…this needs to end."

"Cas, baby c'mon! It's me, I can control this!" Dean shouted back into the angel's face, while his hand started to twitch, instinctively reaching for the First Blade.

"I don't think you can Dean, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think I'll ever stop regretting this."

Dean could hear the sound of metal sliding against fabric, and soon felt a sharp object pressing against his chest. Castiel was hesitating, as if he was waiting for Dean to make a move. He thought that, if it came down to survival, the Mark would make Dean go darkside. Almost as if he was looking for a justification for what he was about to do.

Dean would make a move alright, but it wasn't what Cas was waiting for.

His hand stopped twitching, the First Blade went silent, and Dean reached up and put his hand on the back of Castiel's head. Looking into his angelic eyes, he could see every emotion that he was feeling right now as clear as day. The rage, the confusion, and most of all the surprise at how tender Dean's touch is right now.

"Cas…"


End file.
